Riding the Bluff
by Disastrous Consequences
Summary: Fallout in the birthplace of the Blues, Memphis. The Outsider, a "new kid on the block," is the pivotal point in the upcoming battle at the Final Stand of the River. Will he be able to survive the harsh reality of the Bluff Wasteland?
1. Prologue

The year was 2077 when the bombs first fell across the world, devastating the surface of the planet. However, a lucky group of people were chosen by Vault-Tec to reside in underground bunkers known as Vaults for a duration while the surface became safer and less irradiated. Little did the residents of these Vaults know, they were the subjects of various social and scientific experiments, most of which ended in failure. However, a few ended in success. One such success was in Vault 187, a Vault entirely populated with higher-level thinkers.

At the head of the Vault of geniuses, the Enclave and Vault-Tec placed a newly-finished android project from RobCo, an android known as the ZEUS Super-Computing Android. For the 121 years the Vault remained closed, Zeus acted as the Overseer of the Vault, and when given the all-clear by the Enclave, Zeus was the one who led his group of geniuses to the surface.

Under Zeus's guidance, the Vault dwellers built a large fortress in the middle of the downtown area of the city of Memphis, where few gangs had settled. Over the next twenty years, as the Vault dwellers began to pass their legacy onto the children, the Fortification was finished and people began to move into the area. Noticing the increased population, Zeus commanded the building of a radio tower and a plasma cannon on the highest level of the Fortification, to spread the message of the Olympians—as the Vault dwellers and their children had become known by the citizens of the Bluff Wasteland—and to protect their stronghold.

However, the Olympians were not the only power that held influence over the region. Miles to the east, an old Naval base housed a fellowship whose mission it was to protect and preserve the technology of the Old Country known as the Brotherhood of Steel. These soldiers and colonists formed a peaceful society to protect the technology from the outsiders, yet they were envious of the strong energy weapons used at the Fortification, so they signed a peace treaty between the Olympians and the Brotherhood.

Using the Treaty of the Bluff as cover, the Olympians, under counsel of Zeus, started a war against the Enclave, who was neither expecting nor prepared for a war on this territory. Together with the Brotherhood of Steel, the Olympians dealt the Enclave a humiliating defeat at the Battle of the River, but Enclave soldiers never go quietly. After the Enclave influence in the region had diminished to its absolute lowest, a few soldiers disbanded and formed a group that claimed to have the mission of "establishing a new Order in the Wasteland, separate from the mentalities of the Old Country," under the name of the Revolutionists.

Unable to stop the Revolutionists from razing their colonies to the ground, the Olympians fled into their fortification, Zeus advising the Brotherhood to wall in their fortress as well. The Revolutionists established their own colonies along the outside of the Fortification so as to keep the Olympians in check while also spreading their message of the New Order across the Wasteland.

As the Revolutionists kept the Olympians "in check," Zeus prepared for a final stand to eliminate the Revolutionists from his territory, arming a weapon much more powerful then the deadly plasma cannon mounted on the roof of the Fortification.


	2. Chapter I: Abraxas the Outsider

It was in a settlement just south of the old border between Tennessee and Mississippi where Abraxas Milner was born in the quaint town of Woodbridge, where life was simple for the hard-working people who lived there. It had been over 60 years since Vault 57 had opened and its thirty remaining survivors stumbled out onto the great plains that had been left behind by the atomic war of 2077, and all was peaceful for Woodbridge, its part in the Vault project trying to see if people could survive without knowledge of war that occurred in the past being successful.

Life in the Wastes was difficult, yet not impossible for the citizens of Woodbridge; however, living this way was a burden on many shoulders. Several hunting parties would go out each day, hunting the large mutated animals for what little meat they could salvage from their targets, while other groups were to fetch water from the nearby lake without getting killed by the variety of creatures that inhabited the lake's murky irradiated waters.

A hunting party was currently roaming to the north of the settlement, led by Abraxas Milner—now nineteen years of age—son of the town doctor and mayor. Abraxas had strayed away from the group, looking down onto a camp of gangsters that seemed to be entirely empty, but had a large grill ablaze with a pair of Brahmin steaks lying atop the cooking space, sizzling away. Abraxas tenderly walked to the camp with his gun readied just in case, and stole a steak from the grill. He had only just taken his first bite when he felt a sharp pain in the back of his head and the warm trickle of blood down the back of his neck. The soft tender embrace of blackness closed his eyes as he drifted away into a painful unconsciousness.

"Are you awake yet, you curious fellow?" asked a sing-song male voice that made his head ring as he sat up on the red velvet couch. "Oho! You are alive and well!"

"Sire, the Outsider's vitals have stabilized," another, more serious voice said plainly, as if reading some kind of printout.

"Wonderful! Hobson, you may take your leave and leave my guest and I be for a few minutes," the sing-song voice said.

"Yeah, whatever," said the man, Hobson, in his gravelly voice as the door opened.

"Don't pay any attention to Hobson, Outsider," said the sing-song voice. "He is just a bit grumpy because we are low on medical supplies. I am Harlequin, the leader of criminal activity in the Bluff Wasteland and owner and proprietor of Vault 86, refurbished of course. The old Vault was so drab and boring, so I told my gangs to get some new furnishings. Let me tell you, that was not easy. The ventured far West to the Interior before they found suitable furnishings."

"Lovely," said the Outsider, rubbing his eyes and opening them for the first time. Harlequin wore a mask that covered the left side of his face as well as a sanguine suit and top hat that made him look like a character from some sort of sci-fi movie.

"When I first saw you, Outsider, you were suffering from a horrible blunt-force trauma from a swift skull-bashing tire iron wielded by a now-demoted gang leader. I had my personal doctors stitch you back closed, but they had to remove a lobe from your brain. Do you feel okay?"

"Well, besides the fact I can't remember my name, I faintly recall a name. Lucy," the Outsider said, "There's a Lucy from Vault 57."

"Your hunting rifle has the name Lucy inscribed on the handle," Harlequin pointed out, motioning toward a gun that sat at the foot of the Outsider's bed. "May I request a favor from you, Outsider, in return for the medical treatment?"

"Well, you _did_ save my life, so I don't think I can refuse. I think I can help you, just to get even," the Outsider said, trying to get on good ground with Harlequin. He seemed to carry much influence in the Wasteland as a criminal kingpin, even if he was a bit eccentric.

"I need you to go to the settlement of Dova to the northeast of here to fetch some medical supplies for my doctors and to deliver this note to a Dr. Moore, who serves as mayor and doctor to the citizens of Dova," Harlequin said, holding a note encased in a sanguine red envelope to the Outsider.

"Okay," the Outsider said. "Thanks for the surprise lobotomy, by the way."


	3. Chapter II: The Good Doctor

The Wasteland sun was hot against the neck of the Outsider as he hiked down the long road separating him from the settlement of Dova where he was to deliver a letter to the town doctor on behalf of the a-bit-off-his-rocker criminal kingpin, Harlequin. Fighting the urge to take a break, the Outsider moved onward, hoping to catch a glimpse of his target soon so as to escape the near unbearable heat. With his hunting rifle, Lucy, in a ready position, the Outsider headed towards an abandoned gas station just up the road from his current location.

When the Outsider reached the gas station, he was heartbroken to see the front door was locked. Luckily for him, he saw an old Nuka-Cola machine sitting by the garage, so he walked over to the machine. A voice spoke from the window of the gas station, "Did you bring the goods, wanderer?"

"What are you talking about? I'm delivering a letter, not a package," said the Outsider thoughtfully. "What kind of goods?"

"Come inside. I'll unlock the door for you," the voice from the window said. Immediately, what sounded like an airlock released from the door to the gas station. The Outsider curiously walked to the door and opened it, which greeted him with the glow of four RobCo terminals and a single person sitting in the middle. "You, I don't have records of you. _That_ means the Olympians don't have records of you either."

"Wait. What are you talking about, Olympians?" the Outsider said, stopping the researcher in his tracks.

"Wow, you must've just crawled out from under a rock or something, kid. The Olympians are a group of brainiacs that live in the Fortification downtown. They've got a nasty history with the Revolutionists and the Revolutionists sure as hell aren't giving them much leeway to expand their territory again," the researcher explained. "I, personally, supply the Revolutionists with information from the brain of the Olympian's android leader, Zeus. You could be just the weapon the Revolutionists need to bring down the Olympians once and for all!"

"How could _I _be a weapon the Revolutionists need?" asked the Outsider, looking curiously at the researcher.

"You don't have a file! Zeus compiled a file of every single person in this godforsaken Wasteland and uses some sort of specialized equation to determine how a certain person will react jointly with others using his own actions as a base. Essentially, he can control anyone in the Wasteland," the researcher said. "But not _you_, Outsider!"

The Outsider listened intently to the situation in the Wasteland. "Who would I talk to about helping the Revolutionists?"

"Well, considering they control most of the city, you could just go downtown and ask around, or you could go to Commander Xavier Briggs in the remains of the Forum," the researcher said, typing in a list of instructions to load onto a holotape. "Unfortunately, I can't warn them of your arrival, so take this holotape and give it to anyone who asks."

"Got it," the Outsider said, before departing and drinking a Nuka-Cola quickly. Not wanting to derail his progress any further, the Outsider darted for the location on his Pip-Boy. He had been through a lot in the last few hours, or was it days? There was a lot for him to take in in this short period of time as he wandered the Wasteland. _What's going to be in store for me when I reach Dova_, he wondered as he watched the sun sink to the horizon line where a group of buildings stood out from the brilliant oranges and reds: the settlement of Dova was just on the horizon.

Hurrying to the settlement, the Outsider was stopped by a scouting party about a mile from the town gate. "Halt, wanderer. What is your business in Dova?" the leader of the group said, moving forward toward the Outsider.

"I am to deliver a letter from Harlequin to a Dr. Moore in Dova," the Outsider said. "May I pass?"

"I'll radio the doctor," said the scouting group leader. "My name's Briscoe, and I'm the Chief of Police in Dova. We're just on a routine patrol to see if any bandits are planning to ransack the town. Good luck if they try."

When the Outsider reached the settlement gates, a woman was standing in front of the gate, waiting impatiently for the Outsider and his letter. "You're Dr. Moore, I presume?" the Outsider asked the woman, looking into her blue eyes that seemed to cut the Outsider. "Here's the letter and Harlequin also requested I commandeer some medical supplies at your expense."

"Yes, yes," said Dr. Moore. "Dr. Katarina Moore, mayor of the town of Dova, at your service. May I ask why you're here?"

"Harlequin told me to deliver this letter to you," holding out the sanguine red envelope to its recipient who snatched it from his hands and ripped it open. She looked over it for a moment and then back to the Outsider.

"Luckily, Harlequin didn't rely on us for another execution. He often sends people here with 'notes' for me to get my police officers to kill them on site," Katarina said, "Well, this note explains it all. Harlequin says I'm to accompany you in your travels for some reason, and that Henry Preston is now mayor."

"He holds that much pull?" the Outsider asked.

"He _gave _me this job. He runs every tiny settlement like this one in the Wasteland," Katarina said. "Well, let's go get the medical supplies from my office but be quick about it."

The two of them went into the settlement that was, for the most part, incredibly peaceful. The Outsider walked aimlessly about as Katarina guided him to her office located at the end of the main street in an old-looking hospital. Katarina entered, telling the Outsider to wait outside for her to get the desired medical supplies. After a few minutes, she came out with a slightly happy look on her face. "Radio came in from Vault 86 that the road up is covered in land mines to protect the Vault from a group of Raiders that moved into the area. Harlequin says he'll get his engineers to work on a different way to manufacture medical products so you can keep all the Stimpaks and doctor's bags that I gave you. I can't help but feel that Harlequin is trying to use you for some sort of plan, but I have no idea what."

"So what should we do in the meantime?" the Outsider asked Katarina, hoping for a positive answer.

"Well, there's always work to be done, and people are normally hiring for extra hands. You could check around town for people looking for work," Katarina said. "Though I don't see odd jobs suiting your style very much."

"Who should I see if I want a job where I don't go and fetch milk for the local grocery store?" the Outsider asked.

"Well, you could see the new mayor, Henry Pinkerton, or one of Harlequin's gangs in the area," Katarina said.


End file.
